The Heather Chandler I Knew
by CalvinHobbesGatsby
Summary: Ramona Trudeau is your average freshman at Westerberg High School in 1989. High school for her is a jarring experience. Mainly because she tries to reconcile Heather Chandler, the mythic bitch with Heather Chandler, the babysitter she loved as a child. When a string of "suicides" takes Westerberg by storm. Ramona has to find out what's really going on before she meets her own end.
1. Prologue

**I DON'T OWN HEATHERS. THIS IS A FANFIC THAT SHOWS WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE IF HEATHER CHANDLER REALLY WAS THE ME INSIDE OF ME FOR SOMEONE. THIS IS A COMBINATION OF THE MOVIE AND MUSICAL UNIVERSE.**

 _Sherwood, Ohio. 1990._

If I sound weird, go easy on me. This whole "writing in a journal" thing is a new experience for me and I ain't quite sure that I have my bearings yet. This wasn't my idea by the way. My mom bought me this diary so I could "express my feelings about everything that happened. I wasn't ecstatic about the idea, but my parents said it was this or therapy. I might have taken therapy, if I had assurance that it wouldn't be with Ms. Fleming. After the killings started, she turned the whole freaking school into a some kind of 60's love in. I know that teachers deserve respect and everything. but if I can level with you for a second, the fact is...she don't know shit, that woman. Anyway, enough of this shit, let's get real. There is one name that has haunted me and probably will haunt me for the rest of my life: Heather Chandler. To everyone at Westerberg High School, she was the leader of the most popular clique in the school. She was the mythic bitch. She was a goddess. That's the Heather Chandler that they and most people knew. I however, remember her a little differently. You see, when I was little, my parents would go out partying and drinking and gambling a lot. As such, they needed a babysitter. They hired Heather Chandler. The Heather Chandler who babysat me was a completely different person than the Heather Chandler at school. Heather painted my nails, she put makeup on me, she gave me advice on how to get boys to like me. She played dress up with me. She made me supper, she read me stories, she sang lullabies, she tucked me into bed, and she snuggled with me until I fell asleep or my parents got home. Whichever came first. I told her once that I loved her more than I loved my own mother. When I said, that she got a weird look on her face. It was like I had made her happy and sad at the same time. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my mom. The thing is though...my mom thinks that she can buy my love with stuff. You just can't do that because in the long run, it'll come back to bite you in the ass. So, i've decided to write about what happened. For my own peace of mind. This is the story of Heather Chandler: The me inside of me.

 **NEXT TIME, WE GET A PEEK INTO HEATHER CHANDLER BEFORE SHE BECAME A BITCH. REVIEWS NEEDED.**


	2. The Babysitter

**I DON'T OWN HEATHERS**

 _Sherwood, Ohio. 1984._

I remember the first time I met Heather Chandler. I was 10 and she was 14. On the first night that that she first came to babysit, my parents had just gotten a huge tax return. Naturally, this warranted a drink off. My parents thought that I was too young to be left home alone unsupervised, so they hired a babysitter. I didn't really know what to expect from a baby sitter that my parents hired, I was just praying for someone who was sober. When the babysitter walked in, I was struck by how gorgeous she was. She had long flowing blonde hair in a red scrunchie. She was talking to my parents, doing the whole reassurance thing. Assuring them that their angel was in good hands. She was good at shooting bullshit even then.

"I'll love her like she was my sister." she assured my old man.

"You don't have to love her, just keep her alive." He replied.

"Um...OK, I can do that." She was a bit taken aback by this comment.

"I should've been wasted an hour ago, let's go Ruth!" my dad shouted as he and my mom headed out the door. Once they had left to get plowed like a field, I came out of my hiding place and she saw me.

"Hi!" The girl said. I think she could tell that I was a little nervous. 'Don't be scared, come here." She said as she opened her arms. "My name's Heather. Heather Chandler." I slowly came out and went into her arms. She gave me a hug and let me tell you, it felt good.

"I'm Ramona." I replied as Heather brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes.

"You look very pretty Mony." Heather told me. "Do you mind if I call you Mony?" I shook my head.

"I don't mind." I replied. I liked having a nick name. Most girls I knew had one, but then again, they had friends, so go figure.

"So Mony, what do you do for fun around here?" She asked.

"Well, I...I mean...nothing..." I replied. My parents never did anything with me. They were far too busy getting rich and getting drunk to be concerned about such trival pursuits as "Child care."

"Have you ever painted your nails before?" Heather asked as she pulled out her huge purse. I shook my head. She looked through several bottles before making her choice.

"I think that you're a pink lady. I'm always red." She said as she pulled out 2 bottles of polish. We painted each other's nails and I had to admit that it looked very.

"They look lovely." I told Heather.

"I know." She smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." I figured that Heather was just going to pop a frozen pizza in the oven. Instead, she baked me a huge vanilla cake and covered it in frosting and sprinkles. I swear to God, I almost had an orgasm because it was so delicious. After we finished the cake, it was getting late; so I took a bath and Heather went with me to bed. She read me _Green Eggs & Ham _by Dr. Seuss and then tucked me into bed.

"Good night Mony." She said as she gave me a hug.

"Good night Heather." I replied as she turned off the lights. She was so kind and so caring. She continued to babysit me for over 3 years. I loved her so much, I thought we'd always be that way. I thought that things would never change. I know better now.

 **NEXT CHAPTER, RAMONA MEETS THE HEATHERS. REVIEWS NEEDED.**


	3. The First Day

**I DON'T OWN HEATHERS**

 _September 1, 1989_

As my mother dropped me off at school, I groaned at the sight of Westerburg High. It was intimidating, but it wasn't really like I had a choice in the matter. As I walked through the halls, I saw signs that this was a bad idea. Kids getting shoved in lockers, girls getting teased so bad that they cried. The usual. As I passed through, I heard nothing but name calling. It seemed like it was just directed at everyone and no one at the same time.

"Freak!"

"Slut!"

"Burnout!"

"Bug-eyes!"

"Poser!"

"Lard-ass!" I tried to ignore the comments as I continued to her locker. I was taking her things out when everyone saw them. The Heathers. They were the three queens of the school. Heather McNamara, the yellow Heather, was head cheerleader. Her old man was loaded, due to the fact that most women had a love affair with huge engagement rings. Then there was Heather Duke, the green Heather. She had no special features, but her mom shelled out money for implants, so at least she had that going for her. Then, I saw her. Heather Chandler, the red Heather. She had changed a lot since i'd last seen her. She no longer looked like the sweet caring girl that I had formed a bond with. No, she looked cold and intimidating and...unfeeling. It scared me. When Heather and I looked into each other's eyes, I saw a flicker of recognition. She recognized me, but she said nothing as she went back to feeding of the students admiration. I felt hollow as I picked up my stuff and went to my first class. Heather had my friend, she'd been like my big sister, she'd been my beacon of light. Now...she was the mythic bitch, Giving light to no one but herself.

 **REVIEWS NEEDED.**


	4. A Humiliating Goodbye

**I DON'T OWN HEATHERS**

Lunchtime was the most loneliest part of the day. Whether it is like that at every high school or just Westerburg, I don't know. I took a seat as I ate my lunch that I brought from home. I'd rather starve then eat the slop they serve in the cafeteria. As I ate, I saw Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney: Westerberg's resident assholes making their rounds and talking about what it would like to have a Veronica Sawyer and Heather Chandler sandwich. They pissed me off when they mentioned Heather.

"Asswipes." I muttered under my breath. Sadly, they heard me and marched over.

"What did you say, freshman bitch?" Ram asked. I stood up and tried to look intimidating.

"I said Asswipes!" I shouted as Kurt covered me in cafeteria food. Everyone laughed as I was covered in slop. What was most hurtful though, was when I saw Heather Chandler laughing at me. Her eyes were filled with scorn. I tried to hide my tears, but I couldn't. I ran out of the lunchroom.

"There goes the little tadpole." Heather cried out after me. "Don't swim in an ocean when you were meant for the pond." I locked myself in the bathroom and cried my eyes out. As bad as being covered in waste was, Heather's laughter made it even worse. I couldn't take it, I didn't know why heather hated me so much. After school, I saw Heather wave goodbye to her posse and head for her car. Against, my better judgment, I walked up to Heather's car before she got in.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" She asked.

"Heather, please...just tell me one thing and I'll never speak to you again." I said as I sobbed uncontrollably. "Why do you hate me? What did I ever do to you?" I begged God or whoever was up there to let Heather show me a single ounce of humanity. I needed to know why Heather was being so thoughtless to me, to everyone. Back in the day, Heather had been like m big sister and I had loved her for it. Heather looked at me and gave me a look of pity. she raised my chin with her fingers as she looked into my eyes.

"I'm not your mommy that abandoned you." She said coldly. "I'm not your sister or best friend. Please, stop acting like you know me. You're just another freshman." Heather touched my cheek before getting into her car and speeding off, leaving me crying in her dust.

 **WILL THE MYTHIC BITCH MAKE UP FOR THE HARM SHE HAS DONE? REVIEWS NEEDED.**


	5. The Me Inside Of Heather

**I DON'T OWN HEATHERS OR THE LYRICS TO _ME INSIDE OF ME._ THIS CHAPTER SHOWS THE SCENE FROM BOTH RAMONA'S AND HEATHER'S POINT OF VIEW.**

 _(Heather's POV)_

By the time that Heather Chandler had gotten home from school, the tears that she had been fighting to hold back finally slipped out. She had a hard time believing that she could have been so cruel to Mony. In the lunchroom, it had been easy; there were scores of kids around her and she needed to keep up her reputation. When she and Mony had been alone however, she had been even crueler. Mony didn't deserve the wrath of the Mythic Bitch. Heather sat down on her bed and opened the top draw on her nightstand. It was a picture of her and Mony when they had been younger.

"Oh Mony, what have I done to you?" Heather asked as she dried her tears. As she wept, she cursed her reputation and wished it dead. She looked in the mirror and gave the mythic bitch a cruel smirk. "Listen up, you mythic bitch!" She cursed.

 _Believe it or not, I know about fear;_

 _I knew the way loneliness stung._

 _I hide behind smiles and crazy hot clothes;_

 _I learned to kiss boys with my tongue._

 _But oh, the world, it holds me down;_

 _it weighs like a concrete prom queen crown._

Heather sighed as she looked at herself. Everyone thought that she was a heartless monster...but she was finding it hard to be as black as they painted.

 _No one thinks a pretty girl has feelings, n_ _o one gets her insecurity._

 _I am more than shoulder pads and makeup._

 _No one sees the me inside of me_

As Heather dried her tears, she realized that she couldn't let her Mony suffer. She got up and headed over to the Trudeau house.

* * *

 _(Ramona's POV)_

Meanwhile, Ramona Trudeau was lying on her bed in a fetal position. She cried at the thought of what Heather had told her. Why did she have to be so cruel? As she was thinking these things, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Ramona was surprised. Her parents had gone gambling and were not due to be home for several more hours. Suddenly, the door open and there stood Heather Chandler: The mythic bitch herself.

"Hello there Mony." She said as Ramona looked away.

"You haven't called me that in three years." She said quietly.

"I know... Jesus, I know... but its high school here sweetheart, it's my job to be popular so I can keep people worse than me out of the spotlight." Heather explained. "I've missed you like crazy though. You know me Mony. I'm a cold-hearted bitch but baking muffins and braiding hair sounds fucking fantastic right about now."

"I understand, you're worshiped at Westerburg and i'm just a loser freshman." Ramona replied. "I know how high school works. It's just that, when my parents were off drinking and gambling their fortune away. The only person that I could trust was you. There were times when I cared more abut you than my own mom. I don't blame you for not wanting to be embarrassed. But when you just cut me out...i'm not going to pretend it didn't hurt." Ramona tried so hard to be angry at Heather, but her rage was slipping away, bit by bit.

"I know... I know. I was all you had and I destroyed that trust." Heather admitted. "You counted on me and I could have given two shits if you were even alive, but I miss you... being Heather Chandler is misery Mony. If I say the wrong thing or wear the wrong outfit, I am toast. History. I get so busy even outside of school where its safe because I'm prepping how to keep this façade up the next day... If I could be me and be popular...well, I would... but I can't and it hurts like hell. I wish it would be fine for me to sit back and act like we did three years ago, more than anything." Ramona didn't respond, so Heather wrapped her arms around Ramona and sang out her feelings.

 _They can't see past my rockstar mystique,_

 _They won't dare look in my eyes._

 _But just underneath is a terrified girl_

 _who clings to her pillow and cries!_

 _My looks are just like prison bars;_

 _they have left me a myriad of scars._

 _No one thinks a pretty girl has substance, that's the curse of popularity._

 _I am more than just a source of handjobs._

 _No one sees the me inside of me._

Ramona wanted more than anything, to be Heather Chandler's friend again...but she couldn't. The school hierarchy would never allow it. She knew that this was Heather's way of saying goodbye. She wanted to be with Heather, but she knew that was selfish. She couldn't embarrass Heather like they did Martha Dunnstock. She wouldn't.

"I miss you too Heather, and I want that too, but I know that we can't." Ramona stated. "If you were seen with me, it would ruin your reputation and I care about you too much to let that happen...so, if we can't talk anymore, i'll understand. I just want to thank you for telling me why." Ramona said as she gave Heather a hug.

"A few more months Mony… a few more months and I can tell this place to go to hell and we can be friends again." Heather replied as she returned the hug. "And hey, its not like anyone can track phone lines. I just...I was so worried about what would happen. If anyone found out I would be ruined and I have felt like crap; it's not goodbye, it's a see you soon. I promise, and this time I won't break that promise." Heather smiled, "You're still same old Mony though. That's the biggest relief." She checked her watch and realized that it was getting late.

"You should get back." Ramona said. as Heather got her stuff.

"See you soon Mony." She said as she walked out of Ramona's room, leaving her with hope.

 **SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE. REVIEWS NEEDED AND APPRECIATED.**


End file.
